stretching off the point, a deep-water channel, narrow but accessible, close to.

“You can work into that anchorage?” asked Venner.

“Yes, sir, if the air don’t die away altogether. It seems good ground by the chart.”

“Then carry the schooner in and bring up. Call away my cutter, and” — in an undertone — ”keep a good watch, Peters, this is an evil coast.”

The shrill pipes reverberated under the awnings, and sailors, neat and trim in white uniforms that contrasted beautifully with their dark skins, ran to man the graceful white cutter. Pascherette sat in the stern-sheets, cuddled up like a pretty kitten on a crimson silk cushion, and Milo stood erect, as